War Time Letters From an American Mother
by
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Step 3: My hat flew off my head and I could see people lying on the sidewalk, some dead, some moaning and still alive. Nobody bothered about them. Everybody was struggling to get away from this holocaust. I also came upon some people lying naked, the force of the bombs having sucked their clothes off. One young girl was naked, but still alive, lying against a wall, her head moving from side to side. People rushed by, not caring. I stopped to bend over her and somebody pushed me, so I fell. Knowing I could do nothing for the poor girl, I went on, thinking I had to reach an open square like Sedan Platz or Zellesche Weg, not far way, that led to fields. When I reached Sedan Platz, I saw our American church in flames. Strangely the Russian Orthodox church nearby was standing intact. I found a bench occupied by an old lady. As I sat down a soldier went by and I asked him a question. The lady hearing my voice grabbed my hand, "You are Frau Doktor Janson!" It was Frl von Carlowitz who lived in our house. Close to ninety, and half-blind, all she had was her little dog cradled in her arms. She only wore a thin coat. I was glad I had my blanket which I wrapped around the three of us. Thank goodness the big church on Sedan Platz had not been hit, so we were for the moment away from the fire. But not for long. Poor Frl von Carlowitz was very upset because she had gotten separated from her faithful maid who has taken care of her for the past twenty years. So it was up to me now. We huddled miserably together watching our city burn. The flames were coming dangerously close, so we decided to find, if possible, a safer place. Staggering against the fierce wind, we set out for Zellesche Weg, a country road. We often walked it on our way to Strehlen, after concerts and on spring evenings after having spent an enjoyable evening at the vineyards where we met friends for a glass of wine and some "Gemutlichkeit." How different and frightening it now appeared. The dear old Stadtgut was burning, the Siegesdenkmal, built as a memorial for World War I stood like a ghostly reminder against the red sky. We looked in vain for a place to sit. No benches, only stubbed grass and a soggy ground from thawed snow. Also to our discomfort, it began to rain. We knew we were going to get soaked and no prospect of changing into dry clothes. Oh yes, I had abandoned my suitcase somewhere along the way. I had not the strength to carry it, especially having to take care of dear Frl von Carlowitz. All I had was a large black leather handbag into which I had thrown my address book, my good jewelry and important documents. We had no choice but to sit on the wet ground. All I could think of was another air-raid that would surely end our lives. I wasn’t really frightened, just overcome by a feeling of numbness and absolute hopelessness. Looking back I can truthfully say that it was the most terrifying night I have every experienced. I pray to God I never shall go through this again. But we were not alone. Many people staggered by, some composed, others screaming hysterically. There were crying children, invalids. We were told to go to the Student House on the Momsen Strasse to find shelter and food. So half-carrying, half-dragging brave little Frl von Carlowitz and her dog, we finally reached the destination, having to dodge burning buildings.
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About the Book
World War II finds Blanche Janson facing an existence as an American alien in Dresden, Germany. In 1906, Blanche had left America with her new husband, Arne, a dentist who had opened an office in Dresden. With the outbreak of the war, she finds herself alone...for her husband suddenly dies and her only daughter is far away in San Francisco, California. It is then that Blanche decides to write a diary in letter form describing the terrible ordeal she is facing, including the bombing of Dresden and miraculously surviving. In a DP camp, she makes an American flag that protects a village from looting Russians. In 1946, she finally returns home to America after 40 years in Germany.
About the Author
Blanche Barney Janson was born in 1875 in Manchester, Iowa, from a line of illustrious American ancestors. She was a fine pianist and taught school in the slums of Chicago. She met Doctor Arne Janson in Seattle in 1906, married him, and they moved to Dresden, Germany, where her husband opened his office (American dentists were in great demand in Dresden). She loved the culture and music in Dresden. The Janson’s were happy there and their love brought forth one daughter, Elinor, who grew up to become an opera singer. Arne died shortly before the outbreak of World War II, and with Elinor in San Francisco, Blanche was left alone to face terrible experiences. After surviving DP camps, she finally returned home in 1946. She died in Santa Cruz, California, on March 11, 1953, strangely on the same date she began her "Wartime Letters of an American Mother."